Harry Potter turns to the Lord
by Saint Abraham
Summary: Harry Potter is plagued by foul dreams, and in his search, finds the one true meaning.


-Harry Potter turns to the Lord-

Another sleepless night for the world's most popular child wizard.

It's as if he were being haunted, he thought to himself. Haunted by innumerable faceless entities that thrive on his suffering that plague him and force him away from any slumber whatsoever.

It was driving the young English sorceror to his wits end, and he could not concentrate during class, a behaviour swiftly noticed by one of his primary instructors, Dumbledore.

"Mister Potter," his teacher quipped, inquisitively. "It has come to my attention that you are having difficulty concentrating in class."

"Rubbish," yawned Harry, teetering precariously where he stood.

"Sleep deprivation, perchance?" the instructor persisted.

Harry wearily acquiesced. "Yes, sir," he sighed, "Bad dreams."  
"Odd," remarked Dumbledore. "Such an occurance seldom happens here at Hogwarts."

"I recommend you take some time off from your studies, else this tiredness takes its toll on you academically. Is that understood, Mister Potter?"

"Yes. Thank you, sir."

Not that time off would do him any good. The nightmares were omnipresent, and would not relent, even in the daytime.

To clear his mind, Harry decided to take a broomstick flight outside of the Academy Grounds.

He rocketed over the eastern border and across the murky oceans, but, to utmost horror, his weariness affected his performance of flight, and the broomstick began to shudder violently as his control of it was hindered.

He began to plummet.

Incidentally, he was too tired to demonstrate fear and let the dull roar of the wind loll him into blissful submission, something he had gone without for almost seventy-two hours.

Within no time at all, he was consumed by the icy chill of the waters, and all went dark.

---------------

"Hello?" he heard a distant voice call to him. "Young man? Are you alright?"

Harry reluctantly resumed consciousness, and found himself staring up at the concerned face of a man, presumably in his mid-thirties.

As Harry was perceptive, he deduced that the man was a muggle, simply from his clothes.

"Wh-where am I?" he murmured.

"Oh, thank the Lord you're okay!" chuckled the man, retreating slightly to give the young wizard his space. "I was worried you may have frozen out there, on the beach."

"Who are you?" whispered Harry, becoming more and more awake.

"My name is David," the man replied. "I, uh - - I didn't want to believe it at first, but I couldn't help but notice you fell out of the sky. Might I ask how you got up there in the first place?"

"I was riding my broomstick," said Harry, matter-of-factly.

"Broomstick, eh?" David muttered to himself. "Interesting."

Harry sat upright and noticed he was wearing a casual attire of denim jeans and a cardigan.

"Where's my robe?" he cried.

"Drying by the fire," David replied. "I found some peculiar trinkets inside, you know. Really quite fascinating - - albeit evil."

"Evil?" scoffed Harry. "They're essential. A wizard is nothing without his tools, you see."

"A wizard, you say?" mused David. "I had the feeling that may have been the case. You're from that mysterious academy, aren't you?"

"How do you know about Hogwarts?" whispered Harry, tilting his head quizzically.

"Oh, I've met a young girl who used to be a student there."

"What was her name?"

"Erm, Kate if I remember correctly. She was a highly decorated student there, top of her class she told me. Until one day she achieved a new level of magic, and that's when things started to go awry."

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"She started having dreams of a frightful nature," David remarked.

"Dreams?" wondered Harry aloud, relating the tale to his own situation.

"That's right," David continued, "Dreams of demons and creatures of the satanic variety. All of her teachers told her to pay no attention to them,but she had to find out why she was being haunted. So, she snuck away from the academy one night and wound up here, at my cottage. I showed her The Bible, you see...."

"The Bible?" inquired Harry, dubiously.

"That's right," he replied,

"The Christian Bible. And, according to the Scriptures - - ooh, what was that verse? Ah, yes! Deuteronomy 18:10-12. Let no one be found among you who sacrifices his son or daughter in the fire, who practices divination or sorcery, interprets omens, engages in witchcraft, or casts spells, or who is a medium or spiritist or who consults the who does these things is detestable in the eyes of the Lord. "So, don't you see, young man?" David finished.

"What you are practicing is, day by day, devoting your life to the evil one."

"Impossible!" thundered Harry. "Are you suggesting that I have been deceived, and that it is actually the wizards and witches who are in the wrong?"

"You're sharp," remarked David, admirably.

"I refuse to believe it. Regardless of the nightmares I am suffering, I will not lower myself to the level of a lowly muggle!"

"So, you're having nightmares, too?"

Harry was silenced.

David strolled over to him, and lay the Bible beside him. "I've made you some hot chocolate," he smiled.

"Get your rest. We'll talk more about this later."

Harry remained at David's seaside cottage for a week, for the nightmares did not intrude his sleep when he stayed there, for reasons he could not comprehend. David taught him all about Christ, and the ultimate sacrifice He made for the people of the world. And the more Harry heard of it, the more he understood of his wizardry and its evils.

Finally, he conceded, the Bible made too much sense to ignore.

"David?" he asked one afternoon.

"Yes, Harry?" replied David, sipping his coffee and reading a newspaper.

"How do I become a Christian?"

"I was praying that you'd ask me that before you left," smiled David, proudly. "Come, let me show you."

David advised Harry to pray a simple prayer, and that night, the confused and reluctant wizard knelt beside his bed and repeated the words softly.

"Lord," he began, "I come to you tonight to request your forgiveness, for I have so blindly devoted my life to the evils of the spirit world. I have given my very essence to the enemy of man, and taken joy in it as well. I am a sinner, Lord, and without your forgiveness, I am doomed to die and face the eternal trials of the netherworld, all because of my practicing of foul and wicked arts. Please, Lord. Please forgive me of my sins and welcome me into your loving kingdom. In your name I pray...Amen."

Harry opened his eyes and noticed that tears were streaming from them.

For the first time in his life, he felt loved, and accepted, and....pure.

He had been relieved of the wickedness that plagued him since the day he was born and he wept, both out of joy, and sorrow for all of his friends that remained blind to the real truth, indulging in the ultimate evil back at Hogwarts, convinced that their dark arts made them superior beings.

He wept all night long because of this.

"David?" he asked the following morning, as he stood at the front door holding a backpack.

"Yes, Harry?" replied David.

"Will I ever be fully rid of the evils of my past?"

"The demons that you once embezzled will still try and recapture you, Harry," David admitted.

"But if God is for you, then who can be against you? Go, and spread the word. You have always been in a position of power, Harry Potter. Now it's time you used it for good."

Musing over the profound and genuine words of his life-altering friend, Harry turned and began to trek away, not knowing where he would go or what he would do.

But with the Lord Jesus Christ by his side, he knew that things were going to be okay.

-End-


End file.
